Armor Of The Fallen
by SharperImage
Summary: When Basch Faces off against the Judge of Wings in the Paramina Rift, he faces more than just the metal ferocity. For Illusions are hard to see through.


This is a rewrite, of my previous story. Cry Of The Queen. It was much need, and thus has the title been changed because I realized that I liked this better. This might be a (lot) bit more demented than the first unfortunately, but I really want to give the Judge of Wings a more sadistic edge.

Armor of the Fallen

_'You can't take,_

_I'll give in._

_You can't break,_

_what's broken._

_Your mistake,_

_I'll rest my body in the ground.'_

Seether-- Don't believe

***

As Kytes and Filo ran through the Paramina Rift they might have only heard a distant echo of a cry for help from their friends. But the adrenaline coursing through their veins pushed them thoughtlessly on despite the danger. As Kytes felt crystals of ice forming on his skin, he shivered. Now the tips of his fingers were sore and red from the cold. He rubbed them furiously, but it didn't help to quell the pain. Quickly, he wrapped his thin mage's robe around his hands to keep them warmer. he looked to Filo, wincing in the bright snowfall. It was both a surprise and relief, when he saw the look of concern on her face. Kytes recalled his excitement about seeing the snow, but now that he was in the middle of a blizzard, his enthusiasm was frozen over like the river beneath his feet. He clutched his sore throat and coughed, "It's c-c-cold!" He double over when the pain in his lungs became too much to bear, coughing even harder.

"What kind of talk is that for a sky pirate?" Filo asked haughtily, cutting in as his coughing fit died away. Kytes rolled his eyes, and took a deep breath before he stood back up. That's when he saw her chattering teeth. He smiled. Evily. Filo blushed immediately in dismay, and hooked a thumb over her shoulder, "Either s-shape up, or ship out!" She yelled at him. She turned away before he could have his retaliation, and ran off into the snows. Kytes was shocked. Too afraid to be angry, but too tentative for amusement. He watched as her feet kicked up the white powder attempting to escape him. He had no choice but to follow her into the stupid blizzard. He wouldn't know what to do if she got lost. Probably pick his way back to the others with the words; 'guys Filo's gone', on his lips before they all either laughed at him, or got very annoyed. He didn't know if he wanted to handle all that attention.

***

Though Vaan noticed the preteens with a cheery sort of nostalgia—wondering whether he and Penelo had once been so...childish—Penelo's eyes followed the two younger sky pirates with concern. Vaan noticed how she held her breath as they disappeared, and slipped a comforting hand into hers. She stopped and looked at him, white air puffing from her mouth in surprise. Vaan smiled, but Penelo's attention was swiftly gone from him. It focused instead, on a cliff high above, where ancient ruins lay etched in the stone. Vaan turned to look, and saw the artwork catch the rare sunlight with a smile. Then in a blink, the ruins were shrouded as the wind exhaled, sending the past back to its dark corners.

"This is where the Judge of Wings was last seen," Penelo murmured, looking for more traces of the past. Unease fluttered about her stomach coldly, much like the snowflakes landing and melting upon her bare skin. Vaan wrenched his hand from hers, and turned around.

"What was she doing here anyways?" He asked the rest of their party. They stood still. Vaan knew it was pointless, but he was suddenly frustrated with the fact that he should know why. There had to be a reason, he could feel it slip out of reach every time he came close. He sighed in frustration and turned back around, trying to stare a hole into the ice beneath him. He felt Penelo press closer to him, and knew it as a silent signal for patience. However, he couldn't just wait, he had to know.

"Hey, Vaan! Look at this!" A whispered yell came. Vaan turned looked up, his nerves stretching taunt. His eyes searched the snows for a trace of the voice's owner, but the youth it belonged to kept hidden. He felt Penelo's hands tighten into worried knots at his side. Then the wind started to howl, turning the pass white.

***

Basch and Ashe glanced at each other out of the corners of their eyes. He, eased his hand towards the hilt of his sword with the skill of a veteran. The corners of Ashe's mouth turned up in approval, as her own hand grasped the handle of her rapier. Slowly the two looked forward as Vaan blundered through the snow. They would be prepared for any trickery this so called, 'Judge of Wings' might cause.

***

Vaan stepped forward with the utmost caution, though anger and annoyance licked through his thoughts like fire. He turned and nearly shouted when he lost sight of Penelo, who could have only been steps behind him.

Another cry snaked through the air, "Have you ever seen anything like it Vaan?" He was turning, the two children absorbing his mind once more. He saw the cliff wall ahead was broken into two; forming a small crevice to the right, where the green tale of Kytes' robe disappeared. Vaan began running as fast as he could before he lost sight of the crevice in the storm. The farther he ran, the more the snow and wind cut off his depth perception and sense of direction. Soon he was hoping he was running in a straight line; but if he stopped moving he knew he would become hopelessly lost. The thin air cut his lungs to pieces and held his head in a vice grip of cold. He couldn't see his own breath anymore.

Suddenly the wind died, and Vaan felt his world shrink. He knew that if he reached out he would touch stone. This must be the place, he thought. For darkness began taking root, and what walls he touched were smooth. It invited him deeper, and around the corner. He sensed another person nearby, and looked back. Penelo smiled at him, and Vaan felt something wet trickled down and over his foot. He jumped back in surprise, and saw to his chagrin, two twelve inch deep foot prints in a drift of snow. Penelo's smile stayed sweet; the evilist expression Vaan ever saw her wear, as she lept past him and over the drift gracefully. Vaan ground his teeth and mumbled under his breath, before plowing the rest of the way through the drift. Once he reached the other side the air felt heavy and still. It was a relief from the bitter wind, but if was almost twice as cold in here as it was out there.

The passage swiftly turned into a cavern, illuminated with bluish crystals that cast shadows over all they touched. The farther he walked the more the chamber looked like part of a palace. Pillars made of deep navy were entwined with highlights of emerald. They sparkled dimly in the distance, reaching to the invisible ceiling. Vaan's hand inadvertently slid over the pillar nearest, and he drew it away when cold bit into his hand. The room glittered with a coating of ice, and the frost coated the floor of black marble. It gave his reflection a phantasmal glow. His eyes roamed upwards in discomfort, and he locked onto a beautiful statue; the likes of which he had seen only in the temples honoring the dead.

He went down marble steps that seemed to absorb all light, to the room's circular center. Here the stone did not reflect what was about it, but swirled in dark shades of smoke beneath his feet. Vaan remembered then, the goddesses' name; Amaia, the goddess of all things ended, still, and resting with the past. However, sitting on her throne mysteriously untouched by the frost, her gentle face betrayed how she was meant to comfort in loss, and cherish memory. Vaan crossed his arms as his skin prickled with unease. "What is it?" He took an apprehensive step closer.

"It's a memorial commemorating those who died in the battle of Nalbina," Ashe declared solemnly. Vaan started, and looked away from the deity of 'Happy Endings'. Ashe stood a hairsbreadth from Amaia, her eyes filled with sadness and longing. She held her hands tightly, to keep them from shaking. "This site was chosen for its vicinity to the holy grounds of Mt. Bur-Omisace." She managed to breath.

Vaan glared back at the statue, "What would Mydia want with this?" Amaia's face was devoid of emotion as he scathed her statue for an answer; her gaze serenely overlooked him, staring into the heavens so far above. Vaan searched the smoky floor for an answer.

"Look, Vaan!" Filo shouted. He suddenly noticed she was kneeling next to the statue's base, her hand beneath a name etched into the marble. "Velis' name is right here on the memorial." Vaan felt guilt wash over him when his eyes inevitably turned towards Penelo; face pale, she shakily walked down the steps. Each movement being more unsure than the last. As her eyes befell Velis's name, he could hear her sigh and see her face blank in pain.

"Velis did say he was in Nalbina when the war came." Vaan saw the tears that threatened to overwhelm his oldest friend, and he felt so sorry.

He mustered his voice to speak, "So the Judge of Wings was visiting Velis' grave? I guess she had a soft side, too." Penelo smiled through her tears at him, grateful to Vaan, that he wouldn't let her down, ever.

Basch moved next to Vaan and gazed at the name. "Strip away the armor, and there is still a person underneath…" his voice lingered with a deeper meaning, and images pooled in Vaan's mind; how Basch could say so much in so little still amazed him.

"Maybe she came here hoping to find a part of herself." Vaan turned to look at Penelo, whose face, though still pale, was full of hope that some part of Mydia deep down, remembered her emotions.

"Trapped by her own past…." Was Ashe's reply; once more stimulating Vaan's imagination with unhappy images.

Vaan felt something creeping up his stomach and catch in his throat, "So this is all one big trip down memory lane for her? I didn't think she was so sentimental." He finished roughly, wondering why in the world he felt like choking.

Fran gasped, dragging her aching head and quivering ears towards the entrance of the shrine.

"_I left my anima in Lemurés."_

Vaan jumped when he placed that feeling, "She's here." he managed to croak in dread.

***

Basch sought control over his body and mind as her dead voice sent shivers through him; bloated and rotting corpses appeared in his mind, and he began gagging on what air he had managed to pull into his lungs. This was nothing he had expected it to be, and her voice, so unlike the Occuria's. It was filled with the certainty that everything would fray, break, and fall to pieces in the saddest of ways. He was running past the rest of them, his sword hand reaching for the hilt. Basch's foreboding grew as he jumped out of the shrine, until his legs shook as he stood before her, Mydia, Judge of Wings.

"Basch…" He turned back to face Ashe, her face sickeningly pale as she stood outside the shrine, a shaking hand reaching out to him.

"I will hear none of this…," he muttered to himself, and turned back to face the metal bound fiend. Ashe angrily willed her legs to run and stop him; but her feet became shackled to the ground. She stared around at the others in frustration, and saw that they too were immobilized.

A demented voice snaked through her thoughts, _"So brave…, and now your mutt shall die." _Ashe couldn't hold back shivers as they ran, like bullets, straight to her heart.

Basch Pulled out his sword, "I will deal with her, Highness." He had not realized his words, for his sword and mind focused solely on the Judge now, and he had no room for distraction. The Judge of Wings pulled forth a blood red crystal in return, and the sun came from behind the clouds. The snow around him caught fire and the crystal's light grew, until his eyes rolled back in his head, and he fell to darkness. Mydia laughed, as she made the weak creature fall to his knees like a toy with broken clockwork. Its body heaved with the effort of staying conscious under so much pressure, and its pathetic sword that it carried lay far from his reach across the ice.

Ashe's hands formed into fists as her legs shook, "We have to help him!" Her words were useless; no one heard them. She tried to scream it, but her throat closed over. Ashe looked back to Basch, alight with a deep crimson glow.

***

A gloved hand pressed to his head, and pain radiated through it. _"You, are a false, judge?"_ The Judge of wings asked in amusement. He tried to look up, and answer her, but a force pressed his eyes back to the ground; lodged itself like a spear into his head. Mydia's dead laugh grew, and echoed through his skull; so tears of pain were all Basch could see. As she continued, the scent of death permeated every corner of his senses.

_"You fanned war's flame, only then to heel like the cur you are before the throne of the Empire."_ Her voice darkened, and it plagued his thoughts with his memories he wished forgotten.

Then came an image of Ashe,_ pressed tight against him brushing her lips against his own_—Basch's head came up and anger licked his insides as he felt Mydia piecing it together. _Their lips met and— _he fought against how tantalizingly real it felt; though his anger was, to his absolute horror, dissolving. Her voice whispered with all of the gentleness of a dead leaf crunching underfoot. _"Hush now, cur. I am enjoying this…." _With each new word she said, pinpricks of pain spotted his vision until he wished he could die, and then she started to sing.

"_Oh, do not worry…_

_Little thing._

_Your mem'ries are safely hiding…_

_Where only we can see._

_What you wish were happening…_

_Is only a dream._

_Hush now,_

_Ugly creature…_

_You betrayer, you cur._

_Your master will not hear_

_Of what we…_" She hesitated, and Basch felt his insides twisting round from her demented words; he gagged, and heaved on invisible bile. Then, breath managed to squeeze out his lungs in one last effort to stay conscious.

"_Sing."_

Her final word shattered something, and he felt the heat rise from his heart until he felt his face was afire; infuriated and helpless, Basch found his mouth could suddenly work, "I am no…cur!" He spat, and words pushed away images, images pushed back thoughts, and finally, that horrid stench disappeared.

_"Your every breath betrays those who died for you." _She hissed, and his breathing slowed when her words cut deep into his skin, and a hand clutched helplessly for hold on the icy snow. Basch's chest began to rise in violent lunges as she picked through those memories, showing him like a student in a lecture.

Reksstood before him_ despite his being all alone; he bravely called to _Basch_ to save _their King. _Soldiers ambushed Basch and tackled him into the ground, the king now _dead_, it was _Reks'_ turn to be_ murdered by the empire_._ Nalbina fell into ruins _beneath the enemy's flames, and he hauled_ a dying Prince Rasler _onto his Chocobo, escaping,_ Nalbina's Imperial conquerors.

A memory not belonging to him, _a morbid scene of princess Ashelia with dirt and soot streaked across her face, she looked down on a dishonored, unkempt grave marked in _his name_... Anger threatened to break her cold facade, and he could barely hear her saying in an undertone, "He has to be gone…or these years have been for nothing." she looked relieved as she spit upon the ground and began walking away._ Basch's insides sunk when below his name, _on this paupers grave_ was the word '_Traitor'_.

The Judge's Voice rang through his head once more, _"Is it not just that they should watch you draw your last? Betrayer."_ Basch's eyes reached across the ice to where Mydia stood, formidable and hidden behind thick armor; he blinked and his rage desperately tried to pull him to his feet, but just as before, the snow caught fire, and he fell back down.

***

Basch's eyes fluttered open, and he saw the two of them, snow parting about their familiar forms. He pushed himself to his knees as their pale faces unfolded before him. His lieges stopped their advance, and Basch felt guilt sweep him as his eyes befell her majesty, the injustice the judge had done to him, still so very fresh in his mind. His eyes fell from them both, to the snow in defeat. Mydia had disappeared with something he had failed to protect, surely. He opened his mouth to apologize to them, despite how little words would do to fill this failure. But the ring of steel grinding from its sheath, cut his words brutally. He looked up expectant, and calm. As Ashe leveled her sword tip at his heart, he wished he could ask her why, but the tightness of her mouth told him speaking would only hasten her actions. Snow swirled around him coldly as she held his gaze, "You." Venom dripped from her lips as she whispered it, Larsa seconded her words with a glare only the young and pure could give, one that could split stones with its certainty, for how deeply he could see hurt in the Emperor's eyes.

His sword laid an arm's length away, but thought would not process in his head, and raising steel against Ashe, he might as well throw himself upon his own sword. It never occurred to him, that it wasn't her, as Ashe raised the sword to the air, he only closed his eyes and waited. Waited for the fate she was about to bestow upon him, the fate he had always seemed to avoid until now. This feeling was so familiar to him by now, the irony didn't surprise him. Leave it to fate to kill him by the one person he would never think of hurting. He could recall no more purpose in living if he had failed these two. As he had obviously had. Miserably so.

He heard her cry, barely an echo on the layers of time; as the sword started its descent.

He heard her hoarse scream of, "Basch! No!" Her despair and distress were too late, as the sword severed the air above him. His head turned an inch away in dull surprise, and he could see rusted silver about to explode on his collarbone. Then he saw her, a corpse's rotten stench filling his nose as the flesh on Ashe's face melted and wasted before his eyes.

Realization struck him. Like falling into a cold river and dragged to its bottom; where a ray of sunshine flashed through the murky waters. He shouted to the world unintelligibly, and grappled for his sword. Pain crippled his forearm as the blade was deflected. The tips of his fingers found his own sword. He heaved it towards the monster; hearing the rip and splinter of rotten flesh and bones. Burning liquid splattered his cheek as he saw her, screaming, and falling to the ground. Blood all over her, _Ashe's sword slipped from one lifeless finger at a time…. _Basch jumped to his feet before the thought finished. His body trembled, and Larsa's was a pale face before him; opening a mouth wide in surprise. But Basch lopped off the head so easily, he failed--and did not want--to see the perfect mimic of the fourteen year old's horror.

He stopped before a frightened Vaan and Penelo, his heartbeat was a drum that with every drop he bled, he took a step in a dance. _Left, two, three, four…Right, two three, four, Left…_ Vaan tried saying something. And Basch pivoted to gain momentum, his sword crumpling the body on its hit. Penelo's face twisted into something unrecognizable, and she ran towards him, raising her staff to strike, but Basch threw it from her hands, and slashed downwards. Leaving a gaping hole in her middle, the girl flickered out of existence, and the lacerated body was a twice-dead corpse instead. Basch halted, his feet no longer beating properly with his heart; his left arm was numb. Against his wind burnt flesh, he felt hot blood snaking into his glove and pooling around his fingertips like fire.

"The dead will find no release in blood." He uttered, and looked into the eyes of his tormentor. "Perhaps I am no true Judge," Basch whispered as he brought his sword up. He leveled the tip with Reks' heart. Who stood stricken the way he had when the King sat dead before him. Basch ignored it_...him...,_ fighting Mydia's grip, he imagined Reks as the corpse he really was, moldering and with rotten flesh. He stood still, barely breathing even. "But the future is built on more than what is passed." He swept towards Reks relentlessly, until, sword collided with bone, and bone split and cracked. Steel slid deeper, black ooze covered his gloves, and his scabbard was this decaying corpse. _'Captain, why? W-what have you done?"_ The words were at the edge of his consciousness, and Basch saw Reks' face slide away from him, as he pulled out his sword, in fatigue. Basch stood, a slight tilt to his shoulders, breathing hard. He waited for this image to disappear, but Reks didn't change. A desperate hand reached towards him. Basch stared at Reks, with some odd form of horror creeping up his neck, but it never really reached his head.

In a daze, he spoke, "A man, whose gaze bends ever back, cannot hope to find his way forward." He told the helmet of the Judge, to Mydia hidden beneath. She raised her fist, and before him, three more people he knew appeared. Vossler stood with a look of contempt, shamefaced fury, and sadness in his gaze. Not far, was Noah; grim and bound by chain to his weapon, wishing he could find a key to his lock.

Basch retreated several steps as he saw the third image; an image of himself, "You would bind yourself to illusions, to the fallen." He hefted his sword, calling on the strength deep within himself."I will cut you free of those bonds!" He shouted.

Basch charged forward, catching blades with Vossler. This fourth fiend seemed stronger than all the previous put together, finally, his living breathing body, out maneuvered his late friend, and Basch cut him down. He turned on Noah hesitantly, who seemed to be staring through Basch, and not at him. His strikes were cleaner, and more careful than Vossler's, but Basch eventually ended the Zombie's life mercilessly and quickly. Trying to not look too closely at how real it was. Last of all, he rounded on himself, who did not have a weapon to fight with; his image stood and looked at him emotionless, daring Basch to kill him. A sword drove through Captain Basch Fon Ronsenburg of Dalmasca, and even as he avoided the glare he got, Basch saw this image of himself refuse to fade away; like the others, it remained to the corpse and bled to a false death.

Basch avoided all their rotten eyes, and he spoke with the heat of all his loss to Mydia, "There is no justice in revenge!" The tip of his sword pointed towards she and her crystal. He brought his weapon round to cut the thing from her hand, but as his sword made contact with the judge, snow turned to white fire, and she disappeared from his vision.

He gasped in pain, as his injured arm burned and boiled. He looked up, again. hundreds of zombies surrounded him, all wearing the armor of fallen Nabradian soldiers. He pulled in a ragged breath, and was surprised, that a fog had lifted from him. No longer could he smell Mydia's intoxicating scent. He turned around, his body aching, and searched for a way from this circle of enemies. He could see the sky, blue as ice, and saw the others rushing towards him too late to save him. The ring of undead came closer as he clutched his injured arm suddenly helpless. He could smell their reek, pressing over him. He had to back away in shock, as something tore at his injured arm, and sunk into it.

They were closing over him, and even though he raised his sword and deflected their attacks, it was no match for their numbers. Basch turned around in an almost panic, from the searing pain in his arm. Weapons scratched against his flesh and armor. He looked for the others, and saw no end to the undead before him. He brought his sword up, and around to the creature that held him fast. Its nails dug deeper his wound, making him stumble with stars in his eyes. Then he was being pulled towards the thing, barely able to stand. He looked up, and saw steel planted firmly in the zombie's chest. The zombie fell, and Basch was freed of the pain.

Ashe was standing there, her breath silver in the cold, she was breathing hard, and for a second, Basch did nothing but stare.

"Thank you," he murmured in relief. Then the others had found him and he looked about, feeling the _rage, the heat_ of battle coursing in his blood. Basch felt his anger at the judge of Wings, so named Mydia, and he shouted into the air. He lifted his blade with his uninjured arm at anything that dared cross his path, and slayed it with brutal pity. Even if these...things were so paralyzing and real.

Facing what would have to be killed a second time, he felt the rest of them behind him, strong. But deep beneath his calm, assertive, and grim exterior, he shuddered to think what would have happened had Ashe's cry died before it reached his ears.


End file.
